Little Wonka
by Hedo
Summary: Only after the Golden Ticket contest does Mr. Wonka remember what he did after finding that gray hair. MPREG...twice.
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: You may or may not find this disturbing. I take minimal responsibility for all bad dreams and thoughts you have from reading this story, and while what I've done to Mr. Wonka seems rather mean, in reality I'm wishing him the best and I love him like a friend. 

Charlie was walking on his way to breakfast when he heard Mr. Wonka in his bathroom, vomiting and groaning. Charlie knocked on the door.  
"Are you okay?" He asked.  
"...no..." Wonka replied.  
"Why not?" Charlie asked. Mr. Wonka groaned again.  
"Because..." he began.  
"Because what?" Charlie urged.  
"...what time is it, Charlie?" Mr. Wonka asked.  
"It's 8:45, why"  
"8:45 AM or PM?" he asked.  
"AM...what's wrong, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked. Wonka sighed and didn't answer the question. "Is there anything I can do, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie continued.  
"I doubt it..." Wonka said. "...well, maybe...but I would have to tell you that..." he sighed again.  
"That what?" Charlie urged again.  
"I...I can't tell you..." Wonka said, trying to avoid the question.  
"Well, why not, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked.  
"Because you wouldn't believe me..." he said.  
"Yes I would...open the door Mr. Wonka." Charlie said. Wonka sighed yet another time.  
"All right..." the doorknob clicked and the door swung open. Wonka stood in the doorway in a nightshirt and slippers, sweating a little from the effort of vomiting, his hair still uncombed from last night's pillow struggle. Charlie considered that he might've asked too much.  
"Do you really want to know what's wrong?" Wonka asked, pulling his hair out of his left eye.  
"If it makes it easier for me to help you, then yes, I would." Charlie said. Wonka looked in both directions of the hall before he shut the bathroom door and held his face against the cold metal wall of the hall. He stood there, silently, his cheek pressed against the wall, searching for the words.  
"I don't know why this is so hard for me to tell you...it's only 3 words that I need..." he said, half to himself and half to Charlie.  
"I don't care how you say it, so long as you say it." Charlie said.  
"...then here goes..." Wonka turned and pressed his back against the wall. "I'm pregnant, Charlie." Charlie's eyes widened and stepped back slightly. Wonka didn't notice, his eyes were closed.  
"How did that happen?" Charlie asked. Wonka opened his eyes and started to tell him, but simply said "I don't know...I need to sleep..."

Charlie sat on the chocolate-and-candied-grass bridge over the chocolate river next to his mother.  
"I think Mr. Wonka could do with some of your help...he says that he's..." Charlie pondered finishing his sentence, but when his mother showed she was listening he decided that not to finish it would be rude "...he says he's pregnant"  
His mother got up and ran out into the hall.

Then she knocked on Wonka's bedroom door.  
"Mr. Wonka"  
"Yes"  
"I was told that you wanted to talk to someone"  
"who told you"  
"Charlie did." She heard Wonka sigh with relief.  
"Come in, then." Mrs. Bucket opened the door at this, then sat down on the bed next to him.  
"How are you?" she asked.  
"Good, I guess..." Wonka said, sighing. Mrs. Bucket put her arm around his shoulders to comfort him.  
"I might ask a lot of questions..." Mrs. Bucket said.  
"That's fine." Wonka said.  
"...well, here's my first question...how does this situation make you feel?" Wonka looked at her, thinking about the question for a moment.  
"Well, good, I suppose...I feel like a little less of a jerk -cause you know the way I act around people- because I'm caring for something...but I'm also worried about what others are going to think if they find out...The Oompa Loompas don't mind, but they're always pretty understanding"  
"You do realize that some people are going to find out...and you need a doctor...how did this happen"  
"You know how I noticed my first grey hair? I was starting to regret never having married, or having had children...but then I thought 'wait a second, you're Willy Wonka, you have the money to go to a medical lab to have something done about it!' and I did...but they didn't tell me that it could be several weeks or even months before I would notice anything...it was only after the contest that I bothered to read the fine print...and then the realization hit me like a truck..." by the time he was finished he looked a lot happier.

"Well, Mr. Wonka, you and your child seem to be in perfect health...if you have any questions for me later, call me and ask me, if you have one now, ask away!" The doctor said while getting his things together.  
"How will I know when to go in for the surgery?" Wonka asked, fidgeting. "it's something that I've been worried about for a while"  
"...I suppose...in a few months, if the anxiety gets to be unbearable come see me"  
"No definite answer?" Wonka seemed a little shocked. "I'm not that anxious, really...I feel great"  
"That's rather normal." The doctor said without turning around. "In a few months, though, the anxiety and anticipation could get very extreme"  
"I'd rather not worry about that right now, thank you..." Wonka said, getting up and putting on a jacket. "Oh, I have another question...do you know the gender yet"  
"Not yet...but I'll be able to tell fairly soon...keep me updated on how you're doing, and if anything seems off I'll come check it out..."

Willy Wonka opened the door to the chocolate room with an enthusiastic flick of his hand and stepped out onto the candy grass. He inhaled the sweet, wonderful smell of molten chocolate...he suddenly realized that he wanted chocolate. He remembered that it would be a bad idea to have caffeine...but the chocolate smelled so good...he walked out, shut the door, and decided to go for a walk.

He sat on a bench on the sidewalk, next to his show-off shop. He could still smell the chocolate, but it wasn't as strong and tempting this time. He sighed with relief. Apparently, someone recognized him, as they came up to him and asked for his autograph. He obliged. Then a reporter walked up to him and asked him a question that made his heart start to race:  
"Mr. Wonka, are the rumors about you being pregnant true?" she asked. He sat there, speechless. He took a deep breath and gave his answer.  
"Really, it doesn't matter, and whether I tell you the truth or not, it doesn't matter, because it's my personal life and others will get involved when I say so"  
"Can you at least answer the question?" she asked, tapping her foot.  
"The answer is yes, yes, indeed, I am pregnant, but you know what? I don't care what you make of it, it's my baby, it's my life, and it's my concern, not yours." He realized he was standing up, his arms stretched out. He turned and started walking home.

As he opened the door he felt the strangest sensation. He stood where he was, blinked, and waited for the feeling to come back, just to see if it was his imagination. It came again, but it was weaker this time. He shrugged and closed the door, put his jacket over a hook, and walked down the hall, his hands folded neatly across the slight bump that had formed over the week. He felt like telling everyone in the factory his secret, but he kept trying to convince himself that it would be a bad idea. He decided he would talk to Mrs. Bucket, his new confidante. He went into the chocolate room, trying to ignore the enticing smell of the molten chocolate. He knocked on the door of the Bucket's house, and turned slightly so that if someone besides Mrs. Bucket or Charlie opened the door, they wouldn't notice his condition. Charlie answered the door.  
"Oh, good, it's you...is your mother here"  
"Yeah, Just a second..." Charlie went upstairs, some words were exchanged, and Mrs. Bucket came to the door.  
"You wanted to speak to me?" She asked.  
"Yeah, cause, you see, I've noticed something new today..." He gestured for her to follow. "...we need to leave this room...the chocolate's driving me crazy..." They stepped outside and started walking towards the front entry room, sitting down in chairs. Willy folded his hands over the small bump again.  
"So what was it that you've noticed?" Mrs. Bucket asked.  
"Well, I've begun to notice that there's a bit of a bump here...and I've started to notice the strangest sensation...It's difficult to explain...it's just..." he sighed contentedly.  
"So it's quickening?" Mrs. Bucket asked after a period of silence.  
"...I suppose so..." he replied. "Were you ever this happy?" He finally asked.  
"I think all mothers were..." she said. "I know I was, and apparently now you are too"  
Willy closed his eyes and sighed again.  
"I really wish there were a way I could tell you how happy I feel...I feel that if I don't tell you, I might just explode or something..." he said, his eyes still closed.  
"I know how it is..." Mrs. Bucket said, standing up to go. "If I may be excused...I have to make dinner..." Willy opened his eyes and sat up.  
"That-that's fine..." he said, flicking his hand and resting it once again on his stomach. He closed his eyes once again. "I don't know what you're doing, but it makes me happy..." he said, somewhat to himself. Clearly, he was talking to his baby. It seemed to squirm in response. Willy grinned to himself. "My life has never been sweeter..." he said to himself.

Willy couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned. The euphoria still lingered slightly, he was still so happy, but the anxiety started to creep up on him. He eventually got out of bed and turned on the light. As he sat up he felt a slight twinge in his back. He rubbed at it distractedly. He started looking around the room for a book to read, a puzzle to solve, anything that would distract him from the anticipation that nagged at him. He felt the baby squirm, and he stopped for a moment. He patted the bump, his hand lingering. He got back into his bed, ignoring the twinge in his back, and turned the light off. He simply lay there, stroking his stomach. Eventually he lost track of the time and finally got to sleep.  
The next morning, as he got up, he felt a strong hunger pang. He quickly dressed and headed to breakfast.  
At breakfast, he received a comment from Charlie.  
"It seems as if you've put on weight, Mr. Wonka..." he said, simply observing.  
"Indeed...quite a bit..." He said. "But I can't help it, you know that"  
"I know...but still..."Charlie said. Willy finished his meal and got up, he didn't particularly want to talk about this. As he walked through the hall, the pain in his back nagged him horribly. He stopped and rubbed it away as much as he could allow. He had to make a phone call.  
"So the anxiety's starting to show up"  
"Yeah...it's such a sudden change...I could hardly sleep last night"  
"Any back pain"  
"Yeah...it's pretty distracting"  
"Well, I don't know what to tell you...everything's checking out as normal...If the anxiety gets unbearable, then call me, I've been telling you that"  
"Well..." he tried to think of something else to say "...well, okay...I'll keep you updated..." Willy sighed and hung up, then sat down and rested his hands on his stomach. He wished he could shake the feeling off, but it refused to leave. He took comfort in the fact that he wouldn't be dealing with it for long.

2 months later, the pacing had to come to an end. Willy's back and ankles couldn't take the strain anymore, so he spent most of his day either lying or sitting down. He had started to fidget with his thickening hair, pulling the tangles apart with his fingers. He spent a lot of time fidgeting now. He spent a lot of time staring at the phone as well.  
One day he glanced over at the phone...then he did a double-take. The anticipation was driving him crazy at this point. He picked up the phone and dialed the number. It was a few moments before the phone was answered.  
"Hello"  
"Hey, it's Wonka"  
"So what have you called about this time"  
"Ugh, I've got jitters...and they're getting worse and worse"  
"So you think it's time to go in for the operation"  
"Yeah"  
"Alright, I want you to be there in a few minutes if possible, I'll give you about 15, is that okay"  
"Yeah, that's fine"  
"Alright. I'll see you then." the doctor hung up, and so did Willy. He walked into the glass elevator, sighing and pressing the 'up and out' button.

Willy laid on the table, waiting for the anesthetic to kick in. He sighed and smiled slightly before he blacked out.

When he awoke in the hospice a few hours later, the nurse who had been waiting there looked up.  
"Oh, good, you're awake! How are you feeling?" she asked.  
"I feel like I've been punched in the stomach..." Willy said, joking slightly.  
"The surgery was a total success, and I'm glad to say that you're a proud father...or...um...mother..." the nurse said.  
"I suppose that I'm both..." he said, chuckling.  
"It's a little boy..." the nurse said, wheeling in a very small bed. "Brown hair and blue eyes, just like you..." She continued. Willy looked at the tiny bed and saw that, lying in that bed, was his child.  
"I've been waiting so long for you..." Willy said, stroking the baby's head. He stared in awe, questioning the reality of it all. He realized that tears had started to come from his eyes. He blinked them away. He wanted to be able to see this with total clarity...this little world, just him and his son...


	2. Chapter 2

Willy sat at his writing desk filling out papers and checking his mail. He finally got to an offer for health insurance. He looked at the sample form, perusing it carefully. After a few paragraphs came the word "dependents". He thunked the paper down onto his desk, his face twitching in slight embarrassment. Willy glanced at his son, Weldon, who sat on the floor scribbling abstract people and animals -god knew what, really- on a sheet of paper. Willy smiled, quite proud of himself. He allowed himself to lean back in his chair and rest his feet on his desk. Weldon looked up at the thudding of the heels of Willy's shoes hitting the desk. Willy turned his head and made eye contact, then slid his feet off the desk and put them back on the floor in front of him. He turned in his chair and put his feet at shoulder's width apart, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward to talk to Weldon. He did this as a quick, seemingly single movement.  
"What's up, buddy?" he said, smiling.  
Weldon blinked at him, then gestured to his picture.  
"Oh? Can I see it?" Willy said, holding out his hand. Weldon handed him the paper and Willy looked at it. Weldon was starting to draw recognizable shapes...amazing for a 2-year-old...Willy was able to make out the shape of one of the candied bushes in the chocolate room -guided somewhat by color- and the outline of what was probably the candy boat. He smiled and slipped it into a folder in his filing cabinet, where the rest of Weldon's drawings were. Weldon started a new picture, and Willy got back to sorting his mail. He came upon a brochure from the medical lab where Weldon had...Willy decided not to finish the sentence. It now offered medical care for every child it was responsible for. Willy pushed it into the trash bin.  
"10 visits were more than enough, thank-you-very-much..." he said quietly to himself. Weldon continued to scribble on the paper. Willy kept sorting through his mail, recounting any recent events for reference. He paused and looked at his calendar.  
"So it's the...10th of February...heh..." He found a letter from his father. He nervously scratched at the flap of the envelope, wondering what the letter was about. He slipped out the letter, flicked it open, and started to read it, mumbling the words to himself as he did so.  
Dear Willy,  
We all realize that I am starting to get on in years, and rumor has it, you have a son. I'm rather eager to see him before I... Willy stopped for a moment, noticing a long sequence of hesitant letters aborted halfway through their strokes... Anyway, I shall be coming on the 14th of February, and I do hope that it is not inconvenient for me to do so.  
Wilbur Wonka

Reality seemed to give Willy a slap on the face so strong that Willy actually touched his fingers to his cheek. His father was getting old...and the request wasn't unreasonable, but it made Willy uncomfortable. Weldon dropped his crayon and crawled under the desk, grabbing Willy's ankle. Willy flinched a little bit, but then looked under the desk and laughed.  
"You little rascal, you..." he said, picking Weldon up. "C'mon, we gotta go supervise the Valentine's day candy!" He jumped up and ran to the Chocolate Room, setting Weldon down near a cotton candy bush. As he spoke with an Oompa Loompa about how the candies were coming along, Weldon crawled down towards the edge of the chocolate river. Willy glanced over, whipped around, and snatched Weldon up.  
"Be-HAVE yourself, Weldon..." he said, wagging his finger. Weldon relaxed after a moment, and Willy finished discussing the progress of the Valentine's day candy.

Willy awoke rather early on the morning of Valentine's day, prepping everything for his father's visit. Weldon was still sleeping when everything was ready. Willy picked him up gently and waited until he was awake to put him in day clothes. After this was done, Willy stood nervously by the front door, adjusting his hair slightly and making sure that Weldon, who was clambering around, didn't get too far. Willy glanced at the monitor for the visitor camera at the gate. He remembered when he had that installed in January 2 years ago for the Golden Ticket Contest...He saw a figure pause at the gate and after a moment, start to pace. Willy hit the button that unlocked the gates and picked up Weldon, fixing his hair for the final time before the front door opened. Wilbur Wonka stood there wearing fairly casual clothing. Willy smiled nervously as introductions between Wilbur and Weldon were made. This grin quickly became a slight grimace when Wilbur posed the most sensitive question of all:  
"Where is his mother?" he asked. Weldon squirmed in Willy's arms and reached for Wilbur's jacket, and Wilbur, understanding the message, took charge of holding Weldon. Willy used the time to try and create an answer...but couldn't.  
"Do you want me to be honest or to keep with society's standards?" he said, tactlessly.  
"What do you mean by that?" Wilbur asked, cocking his head in confusion. Weldon seemed to notice the tension and started glancing at Willy and Wilbur alternatively.  
"What I mean is...that...technically speaking..." Willy paused, fighting off a nervous stutter. "...technically speaking...I am his mother...I'm not sure if that really makes sense to yo"  
"It doesn't," Wilbur interrupted. Weldon demanded to be put on the floor, and Wilbur obliged. "but if an explanation can be given, with pure and simple facts -that means no riddles and no ambiguities, Willy- I'll do my best to accept it." He said, putting his hand on Willy's shoulder. Willy did his best not to flinch. He had issues with physical contact with strangers, and his father nearly qualified; but the friendly intent of the gesture helped to ease his nerves.

"So, I'd like to know how this all fits together..." Wilbur said, sitting in a chair across from Willy's desk.  
"Well, technically speaking, Weldon is my clone, but I consider him a son. And so, therefore, technically speaking, I'm his father because he has my DNA..." Willy began his explanation. Wilbur nodded to show he was listening and that it made sense to him. "...and, also technically speaking...I'm..." Willy gulped nervously. He wasn't ashamed of what he did, he was just worried about how people would react to the truth. "...technically speaking, I'm his mother as well...because..." He struggled to finish the sentence.  
"Because you played the part..." Wilbur finished for him. Willy laughed weakly.  
"Yeah...that..." he said. Weldon yanked on Wilbur's ankle.  
"What the-" he said, looking down. His face softened as he saw it was just Weldon.  
"H-he does that..." Willy said, nodding and smiling.

"Please, do let me know when he loses his first tooth...and if you could keep his baby teeth, that would be rather nice. After all, I did the same with yours." Wilbur said putting on his coat.  
"That was always what creeped me out about you..." Willy mumbled.  
"What?" Wilbur asked.  
"I said 'I always found that kinda weird'." Willy said. He wasn't necessarily lying, was he?  
"Well, I'm a dentist...you have to love teeth to love the job, and I always did love teeth..." Wilbur explained as he stepped out the door.  
"Bye, dad...see you later..." Willy said.  
"Goodbye, Willy." Wilbur said. The door closed with a thudding, clanking noise.  
"If there is a 'later'..." Willy thought to himself. The reality was starting to sink in with more and more severity every day: his dad would be dying soon. Willy blinked back tears. He tried to distract himself from the thought by focusing on business matters. He picked Weldon up and walked to his office, sitting down at his desk. He took out a sheet of scratch paper and a pen and started trying to figure out if Weldon would ever get any control of the factory, and for approximately how long.  
Let's see...if Charlie's 14 now, and Weldon is 2...that makes for a 12-year difference...so, if Charlie lives to a naturally old age, Weldon will only get control of the factory for an approximate 12 years, depending on how well he does health-wise...but I just can't be sure...I'd definitely be gone by-- he dropped the pen. Oh, my god... he thought, I'll be leaving Weldon behind so much sooner than a father should...my grandchildren, if Weldon ever gives me any- which he probably won't, he's likely to grow up to be like me...but...no, I'll get to that later...- will probably never know me, if he grows to be like me...but I have to take into consideration that I'm so different from my father...Weldon might follow me by not following me.  
"That doesn't make sense..." he thought aloud. There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Willy asked.  
"It's Charlie and Grandpa Joe." Charlie's voice said from the other side of the door.  
"Come in." Willy said, slipping the scratch paper into the trashbin. It slyly covered the brochure from the health lab. Charlie and Joe sat on 2 of the 4 chairs set up in front of Willy's desk.  
"Grandpa Joe has a question to ask you...as do my father and my other grandparents..." Charlie said, getting out of his seat. Mr. Bucket and the rest of Charlie's grandparents sat down...Mr. Bucket had to pull up an extra chair.  
"W-what seems to be the problem?" Willy asked nervously.  
"We don't think that Weldon is adopted..." Joe began.  
"And we get the feeling that you have more to do with him than being his father..." said George. Willy laughed nervously.  
"So we're right, aren't we?" asked Mr. Bucket.  
"...yes..." Willy said, pulling the brochure from the trash and throwing it on the desk. "I regretted not having a family and went to have something done about it...I was cloned...and they presented to me the option of..." he laughed nervously again. "of...well...Charlie knows, and so does Mrs. Bucket; you could ask them"  
"but...the Golden Tickets..." Joe said.  
"I did that because I thought that the procedure didn't work...it was only after the contest that I realized I wasn't having stomach flu." Willy said, scratching the desktop and his scalp as he spoke, a nervous wreck now. Mr. Bucket laughed at the sentence. Willy glared at him and pointed towards the door.  
"Leave." he said, angry for the first time since all of them had met him. Charlie flipped through the brochure with alternating looks of disgust, awe, interest, and confusion. Willy turned to him. "What procedures catch your eye?" he joked.  
"Well...this one here with the toenails is pretty interesting..." Charlie said.

"Hello?" Willy snapped up the phone on the first ring.  
"Is Willy Wonka here?" a voice on the other end said. A rather soul-less sounding voice, at that.  
"This is he." Willy said, smiling.  
"We regret to tell you that your father passed away this week, sir." the voice told him, flatly and heartlessly. The smile on Willy's face gave way to a look of shock immediately. He silently hung up and put his head down on his desk, thinking hard and trying not to have a breakdown. Charlie came into the room with Weldon a few minutes later.  
"Mr. Wonka, are you all right?" Charlie asked. Willy shook his head wordlessly, the look of shock having evolved into stunned apathy.  
"What's wrong, Mr. Wonka?" he said, urging for Willy to speak. Willy hesitated, rubbing his fingertips along the edge of a paperweight.  
"My dad's dead, Charlie..." he gasped.  
"Oh my gosh..." Charlie said. "is there anything I can do to help, Mr. Wonka?" Willy looked up from the paperweight in his hands.  
"No, Charlie. You can't fix it. Once you're dead, you stay dead. That's why you and Weldon are here..." the paperweight fell out of his hands and hit the desk with a thud.

Willy nervously fiddled with the notecards in his hand. He had been asked to make a speech at the funeral, and had spent all of his energy that week writing one. He cleared his throat.  
"My dad and I weren't the best of friends...I-" his voice broke and he spent a few moments of precious time trying to get it going again. "I wish I'd known him better...I always felt like he was a stranger to me...we were just too different...but I'll never forget how glad he was to see Weldon a few weeks ago...ironic, isn't it? Right as a new person comes into my life, another is suddenly taken away from it...I...I hated my braces when I was a kid...but...now I'm grateful that he put them on my teeth...otherwise, I wouldn't have the great smile I have today...and once I get used to the idea of my dad being gone...you'll be seeing the work he put into my teeth, then...I-I'm- darn..." he had dropped his notecards because his hands were shaking so much. "I-I-I...uh...I've run out of things to say now...I'd best be goi-" Willy hurriedly dashed to the back of the room and let out a muffled sob. He didn't want to break down in front of all of these people.  
As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Willy suddenly felt the same way he did when Charlie had refused the factory...but to a further extent. He couldn't hold back anymore. He doubled over, tears spilling from his eyes and wetting his face as he tried and failed time and time again to keep his sobs quiet. An old family friend came over and pulled him into a hug. Willy was too desperately upset to resist, so he just reciprocated the hug and kept crying. Weldon stood behind Willy, clutching at the wrinkles in his father's trousers, overwhelmed by the huge amount of people.  
"Your son really has to get more exposure to the world, Willy..." the family friend said.  
"I know...but I just don't trust the world enough to let him out of the factory..." Willy sobbed.  
"You can take him to a daycare center, you know...they'll supervise him, keep him out of trouble, and Weldon can make some friends"  
"That sounds like a good idea..." Willy said, finally pulling out of the hug. "I'll go for it as soon as I have the chance...sales aren't going to do well for a while, I fear..." Willy mentioned.  
"Why not"  
"Because I'll be too depressed to come up with anything..." Willy explained.  
"I'm sure you'll think of something, Willy..." the family friend said before walking away. Willy stayed afterwards to watch them pile dirt over the grave, and Weldon walked around fidgeting until eventually Willy picked him up and headed home. 


	3. Chapter 3

Little Wonka: Part 3

Willy was getting excited. Weldon would be turning 15 so soon, and he was starting to see more and more of himself in Weldon every day. Weldon had caused an explosion in the inventing room by mixing too much "cinnamon gunpowder" with too much "sour lemon-IDE, and while the explosion caused a mess, it was fairly small and Willy was glad to see Weldon experimenting with flavors. Grandpa Joe would comment on how much Weldon reminded him of Willy, back in the days when Joe was an employee. There was one major difference: Weldon always wore bowler hats...never top hats...always bowler hats. Weldon seemed to be a little shyer than Willy had been at that age, which led Willy to believe that there was a secret at hand.  
Weldon was a transvestite, it was revealed one day as Willy found him wearing a long shapeless dress with his bowler hat. Willy had been understanding, and admitted to his fixation with striped socks. They both got a bit of a laugh out of that.

On Weldon's 15th birthday, a new candy of his design was released: Weldon Wonka's White Chocolate Rabbits, which made an excellent Easter candy, it was found. Weldon's birthday, however, was not in April, but July, and so Willy and Weldon worked for weeks beforehand developing Everlasting Gobstopper-flavored Ice Cream, which, thanks to its tendency not to melt and the fact that it changed flavors every minute, sold quite nicely.

Weldon eventually asked Willy about existence...something every 15-year-old seems to have a fixation with.  
"Dad?" Weldon prompted.  
"Hmm?" Willy said, looking up from his paperwork.  
"I'm curious...and you're probably thinking that this is a rather delayed question...and..." Weldon began.  
"You're pressure speaking, Weldon." Willy commented.  
"Oh, right. Terribly sorry...but...you see, I was wondering...how did I get here?" He leaned forward in his seat, placing his hands on the desk as he said this. Willy took off his reading glasses -since, at age 57 his eyesight was starting to fail- and looked up.  
"I've been waiting for 15 long years to tell you that, son. And you're probably wondering why you don't have a mother, either"  
"Well...sorta"  
"Well, here's why, Weldon: I'm not just your father...I'm your exact carbon copy, and, technically speaking, I'm also..." he grinned momentarily "you're gonna like this part...technically speaking, I'm also your mother..." he laughed a little bit. Weldon's eyes widened and he leaned forward again.  
"I don't believe you..." he said. Willy sat up and laughed, then opened the filing cabinet, pulling out a pile of paperwork and thumping it on the desk in front of Weldon.  
"Those are the papers that prove it; papers from the lab where they scraped some DNA for cloning, papers from the same lab that..." he hesitated. "now, please, promise me you won't get freaked out at this"  
"I'll try my best, dad..." Weldon said, perusing the papers and listening to Willy talk at the same time.  
"I went to the lab, had some DNA samples taken, and using that, they cloned you. After that you were..." he coughed nervously "as you can see, it's a touchy subject...but I'm proud of you... after that...you were implanted into the pad of fat protecting my intestines..." Willy finished, glad that he could complete the sentence for once. Weldon had long since looked up from a page of ultrasound stills. He looked a little creeped out, but the expression on his face changed as his hand fell to the skirt he was wearing and realized he was in no place to be disturbed by a breech in gender roles.  
"So...I was...and...you were...and..." he continued to stutter silently for a few moments after that.  
"Yes..." Willy said, putting his glasses back on. "Oh, and by the way, you can keep that, I have another few copies for safekeeping in other filing cabinets"  
"Why?" Weldon asked.  
"Because they're about you! I'm proud to have a son like you!" Willy said excitedly.  
"But aren't I technically your twin?" Weldon asked, confused.  
"No, you're 42 years younger than me, that's not twin-hood at all, 42 seconds maybe...but 42 years...that's quite a stretch..." Willy explained. Weldon went back to the pile of papers, looking for a journal of sorts, judging by what he mumbled to himself.  
"The journal's on page 35." Willy said, pointing to the packet. Weldon flipped to the page and became deeply absorbed in the random thoughts and emotions of his father. He laughed in some parts, and from time to time, he could be heard saying "aw..." or "how sweet...". Willy smiled when he heard that, and when Weldon finished the journal, he looked at his statistics and read a small transcript written by one of the hospice nurses. This, he read aloud.  
"Oh, yeah, she was so nice to me about it. A lot of them would crack jokes, but not her." Willy commented as Weldon read the transcript.  
"Well that's good." Weldon said.  
"Yeah..." Willy said, beginning to tune out to finish the paperwork.  
"Shouldn't Charlie be doing paperwork?" Weldon asked.  
"Yes, but he's out planning renovations at the show-off shop today..." Willy said, scribbling his name on one of the lines of a form.  
"Show-off shop?" Weldon asked.  
"Yeah, show-off shop...it was my first candy shop, and it used to be my factory, too. Now, since I've moved the factory and it's got a larger scale of production, that shop's more an advertisement than a factory...I think the only thing we still make there is customized candygrams..." Willy said. "That's also where the press found out about you"  
"I...don't understand..." Weldon said, shrugging.  
"Reporters heard the rumor -which turned out to be true- and came to me asking about it...I told them the truth...loudly and proudly..." Willy said, almost in a trance-like state at this point. Weldon quietly got up and went to his room to look at the packet again.

A few hours later, Charlie got back from the show-off shop, Willy had finished with all of the paperwork, and they all sat down in Willy's office for a business meeting.  
"Everyone..." Charlie began. "I have an announcement"  
"Well of course, that's why were having a meeting..." Weldon tactlessly said. Willy shot him a warning look and Weldon folded his hands on the table in front of him. Under the table, in his lap, rested the packet of all of his statistics. Charlie cleared his throat to continue.  
"At the shop today while I was planning the renovations, I met a wonderful woman." Charlie said. Willy looked down at the table and sighed exasperatedly. Weldon laughed.  
"Charlie..." Willy said. "I said to you on the day that I first offered you the factory that you can't run a factory with family hanging over you"  
"Explain how you having Weldon was justified, then." Charlie said, a smug look on his face.  
"Uh, I'm right here..." Weldon said, tapping the table. Charlie ignored him.  
"By family I mean siblings and p..." Willy hesitated.  
"Parents?" Weldon suggested.  
"Yes, exactly, that..." Willy said, glad for having been helped out.  
"Then maybe you should leave the factory..." Charlie said, his smug expression becoming more and more irritating.  
"Bear in mind, Charlie," Willy said, getting angry and standing up "That Weldon came first!" Weldon shrank back in his chair. He hated seeing people argue.  
"Why can't I bring my girlfriend to the factory?" Charlie asked.  
"Because only authorized personnel and permitted visitors are allowed to come to the factory, and I'm not giving your girlfriend permission to come here"  
"Well why not?" Charlie demanded.  
"Because if you bring her here, she might steal recipes and ruin equipment, not to mention that a relationship will distract you from business." Willy tried to explain.  
"Well then forget about the factory, I don't need candy!" Charlie said, standing up, grabbing his coat, and leaving. Willy turned to Weldon and smiled.  
"Well, now everything's going as I had originally planned it..." Willy said. "My son and myself running our chocolate factory...". Weldon took the packet out of his lap and started reading it again. Willy got out of his seat and glanced over Weldon's shoulder.  
"You're still reading that?" he asked of Weldon. Weldon turned around.  
"...Well...yeah..." he said, turning back to it.  
"Why? It's not like you're going to do what I did..." Willy said.  
"What's there stopping me?" Weldon asked. Willy put his hand to his face and groaned.  
"Listen, Weldon..." he said, sitting down in the closest chair. "It's not all that safe...turn to the back page." He continued, pointing to the packet. Weldon did. "Do you see that?" Willy asked as he tapped on the title of the page. "That's a precautionary will that I had to write"  
"W-Why?" Weldon asked.  
"Because...because...oh...I can't tell you, Weldon..." Willy sighed.  
"Why not?" Weldon asked.  
"Because...you're not going to do that, do you hear me?" Willy said. He moved away a little, ashamed of his hypocrisy. He realized that this was what his father did that always annoyed him. "Weldon...I-I'm sorry...but...you're young, you can get married and have kids that way...what I did was..." he sighed "it was a desperate measure...I was always too focused on my work to be bothered with a social life"  
"But if I'm taking your place...how can I be bothered with one?" Weldon wondered.  
"Because I'll still be running the factory too, you'll have more time to go out and do things...and"  
"Dad...please...consider this: when girls find out that I'm wearing their clothing, they're not going to like me-" Weldon protested.  
"If they do not love you for that, they never loved you. You will know who is right for you someday, Weldon." Willy said, hesitantly placing his arm around Weldon's shoulders.  
"...Dad...I've always wondered...why were you always so nervous about touching people?" Weldon asked, turning to face his father.  
"I...well...uh...I...I..." Willy struggled to build his sentence. "...I don't really know...but ever since you came along, it's gotten a lot less severe...You've...you've taught me how to love, Weldon..." Weldon looked at him for a moment, processing that statement.  
"I must say, that sounded really sappy..." Weldon said. Willy sighed.  
"I know...but it's true, Weldon...I was concerned about nothing but my candies...and then...that gray hair shows up and...well...we all know the rest of the story..." As Willy said this, Weldon yanked a gray hair from his father's head.  
"It's a good story..." Weldon said. "It makes me feel great, because you did something so bizarre and untraditional just for...well...yeah"  
"That's very true..." Willy said, slowly changing his grasp of Weldon's shoulder into a hug. A nice hug, purely emotional, without the slightest hint of negative feelings. Weldon reciprocated. They sat there in silence for a few moments, and then there was the sound of the doorbell ringing, startling their peaceful happiness. Weldon got up to answer it. Reporters were crowded around the gate, clamoring to get in. Weldon gestured to them to wait a moment and then went to Willy.  
"Reporters at the door...I wonder what they're here about..." Weldon explained.  
"Probably about Charlie walking out." Willy said, pulling himself out of his seat. As they opened the gates for the reporters, several questions were thrown at them, most about Charlie, but one question was posed at Weldon:  
"Do you plan to have children the way your father did?" the reporter asked.  
"Well, gee...that's a difficult question..." Weldon said "there's so many risks to it, you know? I guess if it becomes safe enough to be widely done, I'll go for it...but at the moment, I think I'll just do it the old fashioned way..." The reporter seemed satisfied with that. Eventually they were all shooed away so that Willy and Weldon could talk business.

"M-m-my name is...Weldon Wonka...a-and...I...I..." Weldon struggled to say his sentence. The girl sitting across the table from him, who had lovely, deep brown eyes like a squirrel and hair the color of the chocolate river at the factory patiently sat through the stammers.  
"And my name is Lillian...I love your dad's chocolates...they're the best, he gets just the right mix of cocoa and milk...heh...anyway...what do you do in your spare time, Weldon?" She said.  
"I try to invent flavors...I caused an explosion in the inventing room a few months ago by mixing too much "cinnamon gunpowder" with too much "sour lemon-IDE"...I was trying to make extreme gobstoppers..." he said, gaining confidence.  
"Oh? That sounds like it was fun..." she laughed. "Did you get hurt"  
"Ah, no, the explosion was pretty small and I was wearing goggles like I'm supposed to...all I got was a little cut on my chin from the exploding beaker." Weldon said. Lillian winced slightly at the thought. "It's all better now, though." Weldon assured her. She sighed with relief.  
"...so I heard it told that your dad is also your...your mom?" Lillian asked.  
"...well..." Weldon fought off a 'block'. "...you heard right...but before you ask, no, I've decided I'm not doing that...it's really dangerous...dad had to write a precautionary will, just in case I killed him..." he said.  
"I guess you wouldn't be dating me if you were going to make that decision, either..." Lillian laughed. "Cause I wouldn't be needed, would I"  
"No...I guess not..." Weldon laughed along with her.

"Dad...I've got good news and bad news..." Weldon said one morning while standing in the doorway of his father's office.  
"And what would that be?" Willy asked, looking up from his mail.

TO BE CONTINUED 


	4. Chapter 4

Little Wonka: Part 4

"You said you had good news and bad news for me...what would that be...?" Willy asked as he set down the envelope he was partway through ripping open.  
"The good news is...I've got a girlfriend..." Weldon said.  
"Well, I'd already known that, Weldon..." Willy laughed slightly. "and what of the bad news?" he asked, picking up his mug of coffee and taking a sip.  
"The bad news is..." Weldon had come into contact with the most severe block he had ever had to deal with in his lifetime of stuttering.  
"...is what?" Willy prompted him.  
"...we have to get married, I'm afraid." Weldon finally said. Willy stared at him, processing the statement.  
"What in the world do you mean, Weldon?" Willy asked, scratching his head.  
"What I mean is...she's pregnant, dad..." Weldon blurted out, desperate not to stall anymore. Willy dropped his pen, which he had been twirling in his hand. In any other situation, the sudden contrast would've been quite hilarious, but this time the situation was far too serious for even the smallest giggle. Willy continued to stare at Weldon, asking wordlessly if Weldon was joking. Weldon shook his head.  
"Well...I...I'm..." Willy wasn't fighting off a repetition or stutter this time, he was at a total loss for words. Weldon bowed his head in shame. "No, no, d-don't be ashamed of it...I'm glad that you have the brains to have let me know before it got out of hand and beyond control"  
"Define 'control', dad." Weldon asked.  
"If you're talking about abortion, oh, no, that's a decision that you and Lillian will make, it's not my choice at all." Willy assured him.  
"She says she wants to follow through..." Weldon half-whispered.  
"What I meant was, she needs medical attention, and so do you, from time to time. I suppose, for you, though, it'll be on the more emotional side..." Willy stopped when he saw the look of confusion on Weldon's face. "I'm talking about going to a counselor or coming to me if you start to feel overwhelmed..." he explained. Weldon nodded, now understanding. "Is Lillian able to come over, by the way?" Willy asked.  
"I'm not sure, why?" Weldon guessed.  
"Because this is a talk she should take part in as well." Willy explained.  
"...so...you're not mad that you're going to be a grandfather..." Weldon said, really asking it.  
"No, not at all, in fact I'm quite excited about the prospect...your grandfather never was around very long..." He said. Weldon gave him a questioning look. "He...h-he died when you were 2, Weldon..." Weldon glanced at a photo on the desk and pointed to it.  
"Is that him?" he asked. Willy checked the picture.  
"Yes, actually..." Willy's face twitched.  
"...why do you do that when you talk about him?" Weldon asked.  
"What, the facial twitches? I never really got along with him that well...and I really regret it...it...it brings up upsetting thoughts..." Willy sighed.  
"So should I call Lillian and ask her to come over?" Weldon asked, starting to stand up.  
"Yes." Willy said, turning to his mail again and finished opening the envelope as he had been doing before the interruption.

"This is just a very weird experience for me..." Weldon said. "I mean, I'm hardly more than a kid myself"  
"It's okay, Weldon...everything's going great so far, there's no need to worry." Lillian said, putting a finger to his lips. Weldon moved her hand from his face and held it in his own. He smiled nervously. Lillian laid her head on his shoulder. 4 months left...I'm anything but prepared... he thought to himself. Anyone who didn't already know about this wouldn't be able to tell, though. Weldon was a nervous wreck. He thought about whether he was waiting for a son or daughter, and if they would be anything like him at all. He thought about whether or not everything would turn out alright. He tried to brush the thought away, but couldn't. Weldon started to feel sick, which he attributed to his worry. He was partially right.

"It's merely a case of something that we call 'Sympathetic Pregnancy', Weldon..." his doctor said to him. "It's a psychosomatic thing, it's all in your head...minus the slight weight gain...but everything else is totally imagined"  
"It's weird...it feels eerily real...to me..." Weldon said, rubbing away an imagined headache.  
"You're just anxious about Lillian, Weldon. Everything's going great, still. There's really no reason to worry, but I can understand if you do. It's what happens to everyone." His doctor kept explaining. Weldon swung his legs back and forth in faked boredom, trying to make himself appear relaxed. The doctor wasn't fooled. "How far along is she, anyway?" he asked. Weldon looked up, surprised at the question, even though he was almost anticipating it from everyone now.  
"Oh...uh...I dunno...almost the whole way, I guess..." Weldon said, forced to remember the answer on the spot. His doctor chuckled slightly.  
"Then expect to be imagining up some stomach pains...actually, that depends...is Lillian planning to take medication?". Weldon was getting irritated.  
"No...she'll be at the factory." Weldon snapped.  
"No need to snap, just a question." his doctor said. Weldon sighed.  
"You sound like my father when you say that." Weldon said.  
"Anyway, you're quite alright, I'd see a psychologist if these get worse, though.". Weldon put his jacket back on and stepped out of the office. As he walked down the street, he watched the snowflakes flitting back and forth and in every other direction imaginable...snowflakes...It was snowing! Weldon skipped slightly as he walked now. Suddenly his cellphone rang. It was Lillian.  
"Weldon?" she said. She sounded a bit worn out.  
"Yeah?" he said, getting the feeling that something was wrong, he lost the skip in his step and started striding with a purpose, if a nervous one at that.  
"...it might seem a bit early but..." Weldon needed no other stimulus, he outright bolted, blurting "I'm on my way" into the phone before hanging it up.

As he crashed through the doors, he skidded on the carpet slightly, but quickly ran to the room that he and Lillian had set aside. He threw open the door and it hit the wall with a loud "BANG!", startling Lillian slightly, but she was relieved to see him.  
"How are you doing? Is everything going okay?" He asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.  
"Yeah, everything's fine..." she said. Weldon sighed with relief. He knew he'd be useless if he was nervous, and there was no way he could hide his nerves if something was going wrong. Willy popped his head in from time to time to ask how things were going. He brought them coffee after a while, which Weldon gratefully gulped down. Lillian politely declined as another convulsion made her flinch. Weldon was starting to get very excited at this point. He started talking to Lillian about everything, even things as petty as favorite colors and flavors even though he already knew the answers. Lillian knew it too, but it helped keep her relaxed. That was all Weldon was shooting for. If he listened carefully he could hear the low heels of his father's shoes click-click-clacking on the floor just outside.

Finally, everything was over. Willy popped his head in but backed out, explaining that he was put off by the smell of blood. The midwife asked for Weldon to leave the room for a few moments, so he decided to talk to his father.  
"...it all feels so unreal..." he said, awed.  
"I felt the same when...heh...well..." Willy hesitated.  
"I'm not ashamed, and I'm not creeped out." Weldon said.  
"When I first saw you, I questioned the reality of everything...especially the pregnancy...because...well...it's just not common...but...most of all I questioned how real you were...and how amazingly similar you looked to me...with...of course, 42 years difference, but you get the idea." Willy laughed.  
"Yeah..." Weldon said, glancing through a crack in the door. Lillian was still being tended to, so he decided to keep talking. "Why does it feel unreal, anyway?" Weldon wondered.  
"I dunno...looking at it from a cynical position, I'd say that it's purely the release of certain hormones...but from a more emotional point, I'd say it's because it's something new...it's like a painting or a new invention, you're proud of it..." Willy reasoned.  
"I guess that makes sense..." Weldon said, glancing back at the crack in the door. Lillian was also looking through the crack in the door, so Weldon walked in and sat down near the bed.  
"A girl named Helena..." she said, smiling. "Brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes..." she continued. Weldon looked at Lillian and smiled, then looked at Helena.  
"She's so cute..." he said. Willy slowly edged into the room, unnoticed by everyone but the midwife, who was collecting her things. Then he came over and put his hand on Weldon's shoulder. Weldon flinched, startled.  
"Oh, don't be getting Warholian on me now, Weldon." Willy laughed. "My goodness...she is cute..." he said, looking at Helena. "I'm proud of you, Weldon." he said. Weldon smiled.  
"Well, thanks, but I think Lillian should get the credit, not me...after all..." Weldon said.  
"Well, in that case, we're all very proud of you, Lillian." Willy said. Lillian smiled, then yawned.  
"It's been a long day..." she said. This was a signal for Willy and Weldon to leave the room and occupy themselves with something quiet. Weldon looked out one of the many windows and saw reporters at the gate.  
"Aw, for pity's sake, can't they think of something else to do with their time than pester us?" Weldon asked.  
"I guess not." Willy said, grinning.  
They let the reporters in at the gate and answered questions...all of them about Weldon's new daughter. As the reporters left, Weldon turned to his father.  
"There's going to be a lot of trash today..." he said.  
"What?" Willy asked.  
"There will be tabloids plastered with our picture...again..." Weldon said.  
"Oh, ha-ha...clever." Willy said, opening the door so that they could go inside. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Little Wonka: Part 5**

As Weldon held Helena in his lap, talking to her, Willy looked on, a smile of recognition on his face. As he watched Weldon being a father, he remembered raising Weldon himself. It seemed almost as if it were yesterday that Weldon had scribbled his first picture. Willy shook his head, snapping out of it. Not for long, though.

"You know, you remind me of me..." Willy said.

"Really?" Weldon asked, pausing momentarily.

"Yeah." Willy said, now in a slightly dreamlike state again.

"I guess if I'm totally clueless...I could come ask you..." Weldon thought aloud.

"I guess so..." Willy said.

"What are you thinking about, anyway?" Weldon asked. Willy looked at him, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I was thinking about you...but...it was before...well..." Willy laughed nervously.

"Oh...well, there's no need to be ashamed of it, right?" Weldon asked.

"No, not really...but I guess I feel like I bring it up too much..." Willy said.

"Well...I was always curious as to how you felt about it...judging by your journal in the packet...I-I dunno...you seemed...kind of a mix between nervous and happy." Weldon said.

"...I guess so...it's been years, now...nearly 17 years since the beginning of it all...I can't remember it...I can't remember much of anything...it was all so long ago..." Willy rambled. Lillian walked into the room at this point wearing the same nightgown she had been wearing for the past week. Weldon smiled, Willy merely looked around to face her and turned back to Weldon. Lillian picked up Helena and walked off, it was her turn to talk to her now. Weldon watched them go, then realized his father was looking at him.

"Oh...uh..." Weldon ran out of fillers for his pauses. Willy looked at the clock.

"Ah, it's getting late anyway..." he said, rubbing away a headache.

"Are you alright?" Weldon asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine..." Willy said, still rubbing his head. "you really should get to bed, Weldon..."

"Alright, whatever you say..." Weldon said, getting up and heading to his room. Willy also got up and walked to his room, still trying to rub away the headache. _It'll be gone in the morning..._ he told himself before he fell asleep.

The headache, however, did **not** go away the following morning. Willy ate breakfast slowly, feeling slightly sick.

"Are you sure you're okay, dad?" Weldon asked. Willy finally admitted to it, shaking his head.

"The headache's still not gone...and I feel ill..." Willy groaned. Weldon exchanged nervous looks with Lillian.

"Do you think that..." Weldon paused, realizing that Lillian was there. He looked at her, trying to warn her that she might not like what she was about to hear. She absorbed herself in her breakfast cereal. "Do you think that...you might be...you know...'that' again?" Weldon asked. Willy looked up, shocked.

"Nonsense!" he said "there's no way it could happen again, none!". Weldon scraped his fingers together (he wasn't wearing gloves, so it was virtually silent) nervously, worried about his father.

"D-do you think that we should get that checked out, though, dad?" Weldon stammered.

"...it would be wise to..." Willy mumbled.

"Uh, you really shouldn't mum-" Weldon tried to say.

"Please, don't chide me...you'd mumble if your head hurt this way, too..." Willy said, rubbing his temples. Weldon got up from the table.

"I've gotta go make a phone call..." he said, looking at Lillian. Lillian understood that Weldon was off to call the family doctor.

"So...all he's mentioned are a headache and nausea..." the doctor checked Weldon's statement.

"Yes, but he says his headache's pretty bad, so..." Weldon tried to explain his worry.

"Well, then, get him to come over if you can, within the next hour. If you don't get here by then or if you call me stating that you can't, I'll come over."

"Okay..." Weldon said, hanging up.

"Well, Mr. Wonka, I'm not sure what to tell you...did you come into contact with anything unusual?" the doctor asked.

"Nothing but my candy..." Willy said, smiling slightly. Weldon rolled his eyes at this.

"Maybe you've just got cat-scratch fever...did a cat scratch you, by any chance?"

"Nnnno..." Willy said. Weldon slipped out the door and paced where there was more room.

"Is there ANYTHING at all?" the doctor asked.

"Not that I know of..." Willy said.

"Then it might just be psychosomatic." the doctor suggested. Weldon stopped, the corner of his mouth twitching upward slightly as he heard this. Weldon had strange feelings associated with that word. He frowned slightly as the sensation of butterflies in his stomach flickered like an aged light bulb, there one minute, then gone, only to flare up a few seconds later. Weldon poked his head into the room.

"Are you suggesting my father has couvade?" Weldon asked. The doctor raised his eyebrows. Weldon raised his eyebrows back, a childish retort-turned-facial-expression.

"It's...likely...are there any pregnant women in your household?" he asked.

"Sorta...my girlfriend Lillian and I recently had a daughter..." Weldon said. The doctor thought for a moment, processing this.

"Did it bring up any memories of yours, mister Wonka?" the doctor asked, turning to Willy. Willy stared at him for a moment, debating whether or not it would be a good idea to answer the question. Weldon gave a quick nod.

"It made me think of when I was pregnant with Weldon..." Willy said hesitantly. The doctor tried to suppress a facial twitch of disturbance, in vain. Weldon sighed in agitation at the doctor's reaction.

"...You mean to tell me that...you...were...and...Weldon...and..." the doctor tried to build a sentence out of useless fragments.

"Yes." Willy said, smiling. "And I feel like it was the best thing I'd ever done." Weldon nervously backed out of the room and walked down the hallway, sighing at the fact that a house call had to be made. He decided he'd walk in the candied meadow.

Already, Lillian and Helena sat near a cotton candy bush. Weldon came over and wrapped his arm around Lillian. Helena pulled the fluff from the candied bush and stuffed it into her mouth while Weldon grinned.

"It's just adorable..." Weldon said, holding his hands in front of himself as if he were previewing something from a camera lens.

"...of course it is..." Lillian said, jumping up off of the stump to keep Helena from crawling into the chocolate river. "We must remain ever-vigilant, though..." she continued.

"Indeed...we must..." Weldon said. He plucked a donut from a candy tree and popped it into his mouth. Suddenly the door opened and Weldon turned, accidentally squirting some of the jelly filling from the donut out of his mouth. He wiped it away, embarrassed. Willy stepped into the room and walked across the bridge, a focused look on his face.

"Dad?" Weldon said. Willy glanced back quickly, conveying that he didn't have the time to talk. Weldon stopped walking and squeaked his glove, then dropped his hand to his thigh.

"Well he's acting weird..." Lillian said, struggling to keep Helena from crawling too far away. Weldon turned around, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Really...ya think?" he asked, twitching his head in irritation. Lillian frowned, and Weldon's expression immediately became apologetic. "I'm gonna follow him and see what he's up to..." he said before crossing the bridge and slipping through a small, hidden door at the other side of the room.

As he scuffed quietly down the long, narrow hallway, he realized he'd NEVER been in here before. He moved even slower, nervous. He was really hoping his father hadn't seen him. If he had, however, he certainly didn't let on. Willy seemed to cast a quick glance in Weldon's direction and suddenly go through a door to the side. Weldon scuffed over to that door as quickly and quietly as he could, and realized it was left open slightly. He noticed that the room was brightly lit, and so he stood no chance of actually entering without being noticed. He also noticed the pastel walls and flinched slightly, nearly squeaking his glove out of instinct- he stopped himself just in time.

Willy let his cane fall against the wall (and bounce off, for that matter) with a strange little sigh escaping from his lips. Then he walked over to one of the many tables in the room and picked up a few items from them, stroking them, and then setting them back down in the same places, with an exactness that many had always mistaken for being obsessive-compulsive.

Weldon silently bumped the door open a few centimeters and continued to watch his father. It was at this point that Willy picked up a small lock of hair, stared at it for a moment, flicked at his own hair, put the small hair clipping down and sighed. It was at this point that he noticed Weldon standing in the doorway.

"Oh! My goodness, Weldon, how did you get back here?" he asked, falling into a chair as he spun, spooked. Weldon nudged the door completely open.

"I followed you." he said. He glanced at the cane on the floor and gingerly stepped over it. "What do you keep in here, anyway?" he asked.

"I keep little things that remind me of you..." Willy said, his eyes glazing over dreamily. Weldon quietly rolled his eyes, but changed his mood as they fell upon his first shoes. It made sense to him then. His father simply wanted to remember when Weldon was a little kid, when he actually depended on him, when he was just

"An adorable little baby..." Weldon thought aloud. Willy turned to him.

"What? Oh, yeah, you were very adorable..." he said, sighing again. Weldon started to get concerned. What if it wasn't couvade, and Willy had gone and had "it" done again?

"Dad..." Weldon began.

"Yes?"

"I want you to be totally honest with me, and there's no need to watch your mouth because I'm the only one here." Weldon said.

"You want me to be honest with you?" Willy asked.

"Yes." Weldon said.

"Then I shall be honest. I have a very strong p...p-p-p..."

"Parental?" Weldon suggested.

"No...no...pa...pat...pate..." Willy continued to struggle.

"Paternal..." Weldon guessed.

"Yes! Exactly...paternal and maternal feelings about you...during...d-during the pregnancy...I..I..." Willy shook his head slowly to fight off the pause. "During the pregnancy I had a constant sense of...oh, god, I don't know, almost a sense of euphoria...and...and...I want to feel that again...but I realize that it would be so unsafe for me to consider it at my age..." Willy stammered.

"Now you're making me want to go and have it started off..." Weldon said, sighing and folding his hands. Willy grinned.

"Go ahead." he said. Weldon's hands separated themselves from each other and fell at his thighs. Weldon was shocked.

"You're kidding..." Weldon said.

"Weldon, was I kidding when I told you about your origins?" Willy reasoned. Weldon shook his head. "Exactly." Willy continued. "In fact, if you want me to, I'll call them and you can go today and have it done..." He stopped at Weldon's look of slightly disturbed satisfaction.

"Relax...you can wait for 3 months before telling Lillian...she'll never know until then..." Willy opened a small book with a cover that matched his coat and began flipping through the pages.

"What's that?" Weldon asked.

"This was my personal, non-medical journal..." Willy said, reading a passage and smiling. Weldon had a look at it, and with every word, he longed more and more to do what his father had done.

"Yes, give them a call and I'll go by later today." Weldon said, stepping businesslike from the room.

As Weldon sat on the table, watching the doctor scrape off skin from his arms, he thought about the adventure he had just set out on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** this may seem a bit like the very first chapter, but it's not, actually...cause, you see, it's the next generation and we get to take a little stroll through Weldon's mind, not to mention adressing issues that one feels were not adressed in the first chapter. In a way, this is sorta tying things up, seeing as I don't wanna go on forever with this; I get the feeling it's not that well-recieved...but I understand.

**

* * *

**Weldon wasn't quite prepared for what awaited him next. He flicked at his now considerably longer hair for a moment, remembering how he had to take female hormones...he'd just get a haircut on the way home.  
As the doctor slowly lowered the needle to the skin of Weldon's stomach, Weldon tried to focus on other things. He did his best not to flinch (which happened to be good enough) as the long needle penetrated his soft skin and lingered there for an agonizing second while the plunger was pressed down. Eventually, everything was completed and he put on his shirt and jacket briskly, skipping outside.

2 weeks later he started to feel a bit strange, and decided to consult his father, the experienced one, on the matter.  
"The rabbit, Weldon, rest assured, is most undeniably dead." he said cheerfully. Weldon smiled through another fit of nausea. Willy's expression became slightly concerned. "Morning sickness, eh?" he asked. Weldon nodded, afraid to open his mouth. Willy smiled at the fact that he knew how to alleviate it. "Just cut down on your vegetables..." he said. Weldon gave him a confused look but tried it and found it to work quite nicely as the week went on.

He realized that after 3 months, it would be wise to tell Lillian. He reconsidered. _She'll find out for herself_. He thought.

And boy, was she mad about it.

"You," she growled, picking up a plate and throwing it at him. "You bastard!" she shrieked. Weldon poked his face up from behind the couch.  
"On the contrary, my father played both roles." he said, grinning before another plate was thrown in his direction. Lillian picked up a few ceramic statuettes and threw them at him, but Weldon ducked behind the couch again and they shattered against the wall, the shards bouncing off the crown of his bowler hat. He wasn't particularly upset to be rid of those things.  
"I give you a beautiful, healthy daughter, and then you go and get **yourself **pregnant! You two-timing, dress-wearing son of a bitch!" she screamed. Unfortunately, Willy had been walking by and suddenly stopped and strode into the room.  
"I beg your pardon?" he said, an attempt at a polite smile -which only resulted as a grimace- marring his otherwise gracefully aged face. Lillian dropped the statuette in her hand and it bounced off the carpeting, cracked, but otherwise pristine. Weldon slowly inched from behind the couch.  
"Oh, I-I...I uh...I..." Lillian fumbled and fidgeted as she tried to fabricate an excuse in spite of the knowledge that it would all be in vain. Weldon, by this time, had inched as far as the door without being noticed.  
"Hold on a minute, Weldon." Willy said, raising his hand.  
Or so he had thought. Weldon turned in the doorway and rested against the frame, sighing in frustration at the current situation. Willy shot him a quick glance of warning, expressing that Lillian could easily fire up at any moment.  
"Would you mind explaining your point of view in this situation to Lillian?" Willy asked, his face relaxed again. Weldon had looked up from examining the seams in his sleeves at this.  
"Oh, uh...well...I'd wanted to do this for a while..." Weldon began. "But when I first considered it, the risks were extremely high, still, and dad was just looking out for me. Then as I looked even deeper into the emotional aspect and the risks slowly lowered, I wanted to do this even more..."  
"But what about what I did?" Lillian asked. "What about me? I went through the trouble of all that just to be replaced?" she sobbed.  
"On the contrary, sweet..." Weldon said, walking towards her, with his arms outstretched. Willy snorted with laughter on the word 'sweet'. This time it was Weldon's turn to shoot him a glance of warning. "Rather, consider it as me covering for you on a work shift..." Lillian's eyes turned stony.  
"Work shift?" she shouted. "WORK SHIFT! Do you mean to tell me that you think that my role on this earth is a WORK SHIFT?"  
"No, no, not at all, no!" Weldon apologized, waving his hands in front of him. Lillian grabbed one of the porcelain statuettes again, this one having a very thin shell, and brought it down on Weldon's head. Willy heard the smallest gasp of remorse as Weldon's eyes rolled back and he fainted on the floor, still alive, luckily. Willy looked from the unconscious form of his son on the floor, then at Lillian, giving her an icy stare. She didn't hesitate to leave excluding the time it took to pack up some of her clothing and take Helena with her.

Weldon slowly drifted in and out of consciousness, preferring when he drifted out of it, as the pain in his head would subside.  
Willy sat in a chair next to Weldon's bed, lifting his eyes from _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ every time Weldon groaned or moved. Willy had just gotten to the Mad Tea Party (his favorite part) when he heard the bedsheets rustle again, and he glanced over. The rustling continued and Willy snapped the book shut, placing it on a nearby table, when he heard the sound of a bone-dry palm resting with a 'smack' sound on Weldon's forehead. Weldon had finally regained consciousness without slipping back out of it. Weldon squinted his after-midnight-blue eyes to try to figure out who was sitting next to him.  
"How are you feeling?" Willy said. Weldon groaned and shut his eyes. "Weldon, Weldon, stay with me, buddy..." Willy said cheerily, poking Weldon on the shoulder. Weldon squinched his eyes and groaned in protest. Willy leaned into the back of his chair to let Weldon get his bearings and regain his focus.  
After a moment, Weldon sat up with his head against the wall.  
"How are you feeling, Weldon?" Willy asked again. Weldon tried to open his eyes but seemed far too sensitive to the light. He pressed his cheek against the cold metal. Willy saw this, the corner of his mouth twitching in recognition. His eyes glazed over as he remembered the day that he realized his own pregnancy **did** start off...  
_"Why is this so hard for me to tell you?...It's only 3 words that I need..."  
"Then go ahead and say them, Mr. Wonka..."_ Willy remembered how he pulled his hair out of his eyes again...  
_"I'm pregnant, Charlie..."_. He had remembered hearing a scuffling and a tiny gasp from Charlie's direction, but at that point, he had closed his eyes...  
"Dad?" came a familiar voice. Willy realized that his eyes really** were **closed. He snapped them open.  
"Yes?" Willy acknowledged.  
"What the hell happened back there?" Weldon asked.  
"Lillian broke a porcelain figurine on your head..." Willy informed him, shuddering at the way Weldon had crumpled to the floor as he blacked out. Weldon noticed the look of worried memory and decided to let his father take charge of the conversation.  
"I wonder if the head trauma will do anything to the baby?" Willy wondered aloud. Weldon squirmed with discomfort at the thought. Willy looked to the floor in apology. Weldon then slid back into a more relaxed and horizontal position, glancing down at the slight bump that was starting to form in his stomach. Willy smiled a smile just as slight as he remembered the day he had noticed the same thing.  
"Were you ever this happy?" Weldon suddenly asked, sighing. Willy shook the sensation of deja vu from his head, realizing he had asked the same question nearly 17 years before.  
"Oh, yes, of course...it takes a lot of joyed excitement to make someone get over the fact that their girlfriend smashed a porcelain figurine over their heads just a few hours before..." Willy said. Weldon chuckled.  
"Very true, very true..." he said. Willy's mouth twitched as the sensation of butterflies fluttered about in his gut. Weldon noticed. "I know how you feel..." he said. Willy smiled. "And how you felt..." Weldon added, casting a quick glance at the dreamy expression on his father's face. "Another flashback?" Weldon asked.  
"Nope..." Willy said. "not really..."  
"Well, what then?" Weldon asked. Willy made very brief eye contact and sighed, his hands resting on his thighs.  
"...couvade..." Willy said, grinning. Weldon chuckled again. Willy got out of his chair and walked around. Not pacing, more stretching his legs.  
"I guess this has become a family habit..." Weldon said, placing his hands over his stomach. Willy stopped as suddenly as if he had come into contact with the wall of his glass elevator.  
"Hopefully not...but, then again, I'd hate for you to end up like the men in those nasty movies, what were they? _Rabbit Test _and _Junior_...I think they were called...anyway, each of them bore girls...I was lucky enough to have had it turn out different...I wasn't like them in at least 1 way, you know? I wasn't a farce, a device for insulting comedy...however, indulge me, Weldon...are you planning on a name yet?" Weldon thought about this for a moment, sitting up on his bed.  
"I don't know...I'll probably wait until after the operation...and that's nearly 5 months from now..." Weldon said. Willy turned around, smiling.  
"Ah, a wise choice. If I had gone with my first thought, you would have been named after my father, and that would simply not suit you well, now would it?" he said.  
"I suppose not." Weldon guessed.  
"You need a song, Weldon..." Willy said at random.  
"Er...Song?" Weldon asked.  
"Yeah, a song. I have my own song for the tour that I held...and..." Willy's mouth hung open slightly as he fought off another flashback. Weldon was used to this, so he sat patiently. "You like jazz, am I correct, Weldon?" Willy finally asked.  
"Yes, you know I do, Cab Calloway and Oingo Boingo especially. Except Oingo Boingo is jazz-rock...but you get my point..." Weldon said.  
"Yes, yes I do...so, what do you say, to...maybe we have the Oompa-Loompas devise a little jazz song about you? Then we'll give them some nice, extra cocoa beans..." Willy propositioned.  
"Yeah..." said Weldon distractedly. Willy realized Weldon wasn't listening, but he couldn't really blame him.

"How'd you sleep last night, Weldon?" Willy asked at breakfast one morning a few months later. Weldon looked down at his waffles, rubbing his neck.  
"Not so good..." he said, taking a bite of his waffles.  
"What kept you awake?" Willy then asked. Weldon held up his index finger, indicating that he had yet to swallow his waffle. After he did this he gave his reply.  
"Had a bit of a headache and a backache..." Weldon took another bite of his waffles, then another, and another...and another..._Oh, goodness, these waffles are __**delicious**_ he thought to himself.  
"Backache? How bad?" Willy had a lot of questions about this, as he was so curious to know how things were different for Weldon. Weldon swallowed his waffles and waited a moment.  
"Not terrible, but enough to keep me awake," Weldon responded. "Am I supposed to be this hungry, anyway?" Weldon asked, a worried expression on his face. Willy nodded, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers. Weldon sighed with relief and began absolutely devouring the waffles. Willy smiled to himself. He personally had gone through a spaghetti addiction.  
"Good waffles, huh?" Willy asked, grinning at this point. Weldon nodded and slumped in his chair, having eaten his fill. "Weldon...put down the coffeepot." Willy added as an afterthought, catching Weldon halfway through pouring himself a cup of coffee. Weldon sighed and set it back on the table, pushing his mug away to lessen his temptation. "You're 15, you don't need coffee as much as I do...although...I'm fine if you limit it to only one cup a day, at **maximum**."  
"Well, lucky me, this is my first cup..." Weldon said, picking it up. He gulped it down.  
"Only cup." Willy corrected him. Weldon was quiet for a moment, a strange expression coming over his face. "Flashback?" asked Willy. Weldon shook his head, slowly beginning to smile. Willy's eyes widened as if to say "Oh!". Weldon closed his eyes. Willy, by this point, could easily infer what was going on in Weldon's mind...and body, needless to say. Willy stood up and walked the length of the table. "Now, see, I remember when you did that..." Willy said, slowly walking to the door as he spoke. Weldon turned in his chair to see his father about to leave the room.  
"Where are you headed off to?" Weldon asked.  
"Same place I always go, Weldon," Willy said "inspecting every room in the factory until 4:00, when I go to the inventing room and perfect, prepare, or ponder a new candy or flavor..."  
"Say, do you think you could invent a craving-satisfying gobstopper?" Weldon asked. At first, he thought his father was going to laugh. Instead...  
"Oh, yeah, I've been working on that, actually. We're in the experimental phase still, but we're heading towards the end of it."  
"I was kidding..." Weldon said.  
"A little nonsense now and then suits the wisest of men..." Willy said, quoting something from the day the elevator had gone insanely far into space. "Oh, and on that note, if you want to, we could go to Minusland today, in case you were wondering- nah...never mind, I'm terribly sorry I brought it up..." he said, stepping out the door. "And take it easy, Weldon." he added.

Weldon didn't want to take it easy, but didn't have a choice, so he decided to go to his room and add a journal entry. One for each book.  
In the formal journal for the medical packet, he wrote:  
_Had trouble sleeping last night...backache and headache. I've started to notice a sudden increase in my appetite...  
Strange physical sensation, it might be quickening but I can't be sure._  
In his personal journal he wrote:  
_Dear Diary,  
Last night I couldn't sleep because of a headache and a backache, but I don't mind, so long as I'm allowed to have my coffee. 1 cup a day is all I'm allowed to have, dad says. I don't mind that either, I don't tend to drink much more than that usually, anyway. Today I had the strangest feeling, right there in the pit of my stomach...I wonder if that's "Weldon Jr." getting claustrophobic? It probably is...I'm really excited about this whole affair, really. I mean, think about it, I, Weldon Wonka, bearing a child in the same way I myself was borne...Kinda...ironic or...redundant...I can't think of a word...but the best I can come up with is "unexpected repetition"...that is a great plot device, I might add..._  
Weldon turned on his CD player, realizing he had left it on the **_Rocky Horror_** soundtrack. He shrugged and continued his journal entry.  
_I have to stay on-topic...I'm really excited about the whole affair because it's not every day or even lifetime that you become a father **and** a mother, is it? Maybe listening to music and reading, and possibly writing more entries will help me relax a little bit, as we all know that I need to chill ou- _he suddenly stopped when _"**Sweet Transvestite**" _got to the line "I see you shivering with antici...pation!", realizing it was so, so very true, his hands were shaking, and he was excited because of his anticipation...he changed the CD to a personal mix that he had made in his spare time, which he sure had a lot of lately..._to chill out_...he hurriedly finished and put the journal in his desk drawer, then pored through his sketches. At first, he had scribbled little shapes with crayons as a kid, then he had changed to pencils and crayons, then just pencils...now he only used pens. He traced the outline of a rather droopy looking candy sheep with his little finger. He flipped to his more recent pages. His sketches becoming more and more Warholian every time...lately he had scribbled a picture of a cup of coffee. He put his sketchbook away, deciding that instead he wanted to see how things were coming along for him. He took out his medical binder and looked at the statistics on the page, deciding that they were pretty good. He turned to ultrasound stills at that point. There were only 2 pages, since he'd only went in for it 2 times so far. He sighed, knowing he'd have to go back again this month. Just because the risks were lower now didn't mean he didn't have to go in every month for them to check for problems. They were more concerned about Weldon than his baby for some reason...Weldon didn't understand, honestly.

Weldon looked at the clock. Already, it was 4:00, so he decided he would head over to the inventing room.

Glad for the exercise, Weldon opened one of the doors, putting on a pair of goggles, and walked over to his father, coughing gently to alert him of his presence. Willy jumped anyway.  
"Weldon!" He spun around on his heeled shoes, which didn't have much hold on the floor. Weldon caught him and straightened him out. At least Weldon was wearing sneakers...personally, he rather liked heeled shoes, but his feet just couldn't stand that at the moment. "Weldon, you shouldn't be in here."  
"Why not?" asked Weldon, crossing his arms. Willy covered up the beaker he was stirring with a large rag.  
"Because you know how volatile our flavorings can be, Weldon, remember when you caused an explosion last year?" Willy reminded him.  
"You're just not gonna let that go, are you?" asked Weldon, laughing.  
"Plus I don't want any adverse affects on your baby, Weldon..." Willy said. Weldon stopped laughing.  
"Oh, yes, of course...of course..." Weldon mumbled to himself, leaving the room.  
"Okay, since he's out of the way of the possible explosion... let's see if gobstoppers left in the sun really DO explode..." he popped one into his mouth and sucked on it for a few moments. Weldon heard a large BANG! from the inventing room and ran to investigate. Willy lay flat on his back on the floor, his hat fallen off, lying a few feet away. His hair was bedraggled and as he sat up, he spat out a tooth.  
"I would say they do..." Willy said to himself. "Explosion-proof gobstoppers, Weldon...I needed to verify their usefulness..." Willy explained as Weldon left the room again. "Oh, and Weldon..."  
"Yeah?" Weldon asked, poking his head back into the room.  
"You have an appointment tomorrow..." Willy said. Weldon smacked his forehead and groaned.

"So, how much sleep did you get last night?" asked the doctor, a friendly blond woman with her hair pulled back in a hurried ponytail.  
"Blah, I've had better...I'd say, maybe 5 hours at least..." Weldon said.  
"Do you have your journal updated?" she asked. Weldon handed her his formalized journal entries and she gave them a quick look, jotting down statistical notes based on the information she found.  
"So you've started feeling movement?" she said.  
"Yeah...it's kinda exhilarating..." Weldon commented, resting his hand on his stomach.

"Well, here's a series of stills you can add to your binder..." the doctor handed Weldon an envelope and sent him on his way.

Weldon had started to notice that anxiety was starting to replace his once-perky attitude, causing him to get jittery. He would pace if he could, but his feet couldn't handle ANYTHING anymore, so he would sit and talk to his father all day.  
Weldon sat, tapping the table incessantly as Willy told him several stories about the glass elevator.  
"I...I hate to interrupt, dad, seriously, I do...but...I'm curious..." Weldon wondered.  
"That's fine, Weldon...What is it?" Willy forgave easily lately.  
"How will I know when to go for the operation?" Weldon asked.  
"...what I was told is when the anxiety became too extreme...no adverse effects from that decision, but I feel like we need to be more precise...you have about a month left, don't you?"  
"Yeah..." Weldon said, twirling his hand as a signal for his father to continue.  
"Then we will wait for 3 more weeks, case closed." Willy said, placing a small candy on the table.  
"What's that?" asked Weldon.  
"Why, it's the craving-sensitive gobstopper I was working on, AND it's explosion-proofed!" Willy squeaked excitedly. Weldon flinched at high pitches. "Go ahead, take it!" Willy said. "We worked out all the kinks just for you."  
"Aw, that's really nice of you guys..." Weldon said, popping it into his mouth. "Mmm...chocolate, how did it know?"  
"I must say that for the second time in my life, I'm at a loss, to be honest..." Willy said.  
"What was the first time?" asked Weldon, the gobstopper clicking in his teeth.  
"17 years ago in the elevator, Charlie Bucket's crazy grandmother asked me an equally crazy question, and I honestly didn't know..." Willy said theatrically. Weldon almost spat out the gobstopper (which had changed to ramen-noodle flavor at this point) from laughter.

Will Weldon's child be healthy? Will Willy be a good grandfather? Will I be able to keep it from sounding exactly like the very first episode?

COME BACK SOON TO FIND OUT!

(or, if the next chapter is already up and you're reading this at a fairly late date, just go to the next chapter)


	7. Chapter 7

**Little Wonka, Part 7**

3 weeks later, Weldon lay on the operating table, his father at his side.

"Weldon, I'm with you every step of the way..." he said, trying to be supportive. Weldon shuddered a little as they injected the anesthetic, and was able to say one thing before blacking out:

"Don't worry, dad...I'm sure everything's gonna turn out perfect...or pretty darn close..."

Half an hour later, the medication wore off and Weldon fluttered into the real world, back from his drugged-up dreamland.

"Boy, brown hair, blue eyes, 6 and a half pounds...healthy..." Willy said as soon as Weldon looked at him. Weldon raised his eyebrows, astonished at the fact that his father bothered to commit that to memory. He voiced this, too.

"Oh, no, not really, they were my statistics, they were yours...and there doesn't seem to be a change..." he said.

"So, where is he?" Weldon asked.

"Right here..." Willy said, handing a tiny little infant to Weldon.

"My goodness..." said Weldon, at a total loss for words.

The press wasn't at a loss, though.

Issues absolutely flew off the racks with the news that, for 2 generations, now, the Wonka family had used male pregnancy. As Weldon, Willy, and Winston -the new baby- sat and watched the news, interviews of them were constantly on, asserting that what they were doing would be seen as rather normal within a few years. Interview requests were piled in front of the door each morning. Finally, Willy and Weldon decided to hold one inside the factory, in the candy meadow.

"And what led you to take this path, Mr. Wonka?" a reporter in a pink business suit asked, jabbing a microphone in Willy's face.

"Personal choice and desperation." he replied curtly, pushing the microphone away. Even more reporters were bothering Weldon.

"And so what led you to do what your father did?" the same pink-clad reporter asked him.

"It was personal choice and consideration of the emotional aspects of it all, which I was able to get a small taste of through my father's journal." Weldon said, hiding his frustration.

"Journal, you say? Did you keep a journal, Weldon?" she continued to ask him.

"Yes, of course I kept a journal!" Weldon said, pulling it from an inner pocket in his coat.

"Would you read it for us, Weldon?" she asked. Weldon smiled with a hint of sadism and slipped it back into his pocket.

"No." he said, getting up and giving an 'I don't care' gesture as the reporter glowered at him. Willy requested that they leave, and the reporters packed up their things.

"So what do you say to a nap, Winston?" Weldon asked; Winston had essentially draped himself across Weldon's left shoulder, tugging at his hair. Weldon winced as another one of his fudge-colored locks was yanked. "Quit it, Winston." he said, setting him down. Winston tried to roll over. Weldon simply let him, as that was the only way Winston would get to sleep. As Weldon slowly inched out the door, turning the lights off, Willy was walking up behind him.

"It's 4:00, how about we head to the inventing room?" Willy asked cheerfully. Weldon jumped, startled, and accidentally kicked one of his heels against the door frame. The resulting scream from Winston caused Willy to look away in discomfort as Weldon tried once again to subdue his son.

"I just have to deal with a screaming baby..." Weldon said, shooting his father a look. Willy frowned.

"At least he's healthy, Weldon." Willy said, walking off in the direction of the inventing room. Weldon picked up Winston and tried to calm him. _He's right..._ Weldon thought to himself, _at least Winston's healthy_.

"I'll just bring you with me..." Weldon thought aloud to Winston. Winston was fast asleep, draped once again across Weldon's shoulder.

"Why did you bring Winston?" Willy asked, not looking up from his liquid candy recipes. "This room is no place for a baby, far too dangerous."

"Because he wouldn't shut up without me in the room." Weldon said, leaning over the recipe as well. "Why dissolve the sugar?" Weldon asked.

"Not just the sugar, Weldon." Willy said, tapping his pen on the page of the notepad. "But the liquid flavorings. You know the things we use for gobstoppers, Weldon?" He tapped his pen on his chin in thought.

"Yeah...so?" Weldon asked.

"Well, we're going to use that same stuff and dissolve the sugar in diluted amounts of those flavorings, that way, it's essentially a gobstopper, but in liquid form." Willy explained, moving his hands around in the air with every word.

"Is there a way that it could be made everlasting?" Weldon asked.

"No, cause it goes down in specified amounts. Everlasting gobstoppers are constantly fluctuating...it's very difficult to explain, Weldon, but in reality, everlasting gobstoppers **don't** last forever, they are simply very long-lasting."

"That makes sense..." Weldon said, smacking a hair toffee from Winston's hand. "I think near-bald's a better look for you right now, sonny." Weldon joked. Willy let out a little "Ha-ha!" when Weldon said this.

"I haven't lost my youth..." Willy said, his expression suddenly changing as his wrist made a loud cracking noise. Weldon flinched. "...entirely..." he amended. He took an eyedropper and put 3 drops of the liquid he was stirring onto his tongue, thinking hard.

"How is it?" Weldon asked, taking another hair toffee out of Winston's hand and dropping it back in the tin.

"I think we've got it!" Willy shouted, jumping up and skipping with glee. Weldon picked up the test tube and swirled the clear candy liquid around, and his eyes widened as he saw it change colors.

"I think we've made one that changes flavors!" Weldon said, showing the tube to his father.

"By Jove, I think you're right!" Willy shouted, sampling some more drops. "It **is** changing flavors!" he skipped and danced with excitement, and several Oompa Loompas gathered around for a sample of the newly created candy.

"This is great!" Weldon said, taking a taste as well. He then poured some into a spoon and tipped it down Winston's throat. Winston licked his lips and grabbed at the tube, wanting more of the candy, then stopping as the next flavor came onto his tongue.

"Come, Weldon, let's have a butterscotch in celebration!" Willy said, already halfway across the room, headed for the door that led to the hall.

"Aren't I too young to have butterscotch?" Weldon asked, struggling to keep up. Willy suddenly stopped and turned.

"Oh, dear, silly me, I'm terribly sorry about that..." he said. "I guess you can have some hot chocolate with whipped cream and help yourself to anything in the candied meadow..." Weldon licked his lips at the mention of this and bolted to the chocolate room.

As Weldon filled up with rich hot chocolate and whipped cream, yanking swudge from the chocolate dirt at his feet, Winston also shoveled swudge into his mouth, and eventually began to binge on melted chocolate. Weldon smiled proudly at his son, and Willy smiled proudly at his. He lost sight of his heavy sugar-"glass" tankard of butterscotch as another flashback went through his mind.

_"Can I see it, buddy?" _Willy remembered asking as Weldon handed him a picture that would rival Picasso's works. He remembered the picture with perfect clarity...a cotton candy bush with the boiled-sweet boat in the background...

"Dad? You didn't answer my question...Dad?" Weldon asked, poking him with a branch of a peppermint candy tree. Willy snapped his head in Weldon's direction, making quick eye contact.

"What was your question?" Willy asked.

"You had another flashback...didn't you?" Weldon wondered before asking his question. "Anyway, I was wondering where the donut tree is..."

"Oh, it's over there..." Willy said pointing somewhere to the left. Weldon stood up, gently nudging Winston in front of Willy.

"Can you supervise him as I go and get them?" Weldon asked, walking to the tree.

"Sure..." Willy said, knowing that Weldon couldn't hear him. He picked up Winston. "You're a cute kid, you know that?" he asked. Winston reached for Willy's hair.

"Don't even start, kid." Willy warned, tucking the targeted lock of hair behind his ear. Winston then reached for Willy's hat. "You like my hat, don't you?" Willy asked, putting it on Winston's head. It was far too big and it went over Winston's eyes, but Winston seemed to like it nonetheless. Weldon came over with a heaping 2-handful of donuts, popping one of them into his mouth and swallowing it near-whole.

"Aw, that top hat's cute on him..." Weldon said. "I always imagined him in a little top hat like yours..."

"Let him grow into it, I'm retiring by the time he gets to be about 10..." Willy said, laying back into the curve of the hill. Weldon dropped the donut in his hands.

"So the great Willy Wonka, founder of Wonka's Candy Company, is retiring at 77?" Weldon asked.

"Nope, 70." Willy said, taking a final swig from his butterscotch.

"But that's..." Weldon did the math quickly. "11 years from now!"

"Weldon, let me tell you something..." Willy said, plucking a donut from the pile and holding it between his fingers, not eating it yet. "nobody lives forever unless they can afford Wonka-Vite pills, which are worth nearly a million a pill."

"My goodness, a million! And what's Wonka-Vite?" Weldon asked, stuffing another donut into his mouth after he finished the sentence.

"Wonka-Vite, my dear child, is a revolutionary medication I made. The brewing stage is so **very** complex, though, you see, and it takes several weeks simply to produce one pill."

"But gobstoppers take several weeks, and they sell cheaply..." Weldon said.

"Gobstoppers can be mass-produced, Wonka-Vite, however, cannot." Willy said, still not having put the donut into his mouth. "But back to my original point, Weldon, nobody lives forever, and while it's rather nice spending your life doing something you love, you have to take time to relax..." as if to prove his point, he finally put the donut into his mouth. Weldon had been nodding knowingly, making sure Winston didn't get too far away.

"So you're going to spend the last 10 or 20 years of your life just watching your grandson grow?" Weldon asked.

"Yeah, basically..." Willy said, having swallowed his donut. Weldon stared at the ceiling of the chocolate room, his hand resting on his chest, thinking.

"I think Weldon could do with a trip through the park?" Weldon wondered, standing up and brushing swudge off of his jacket.

"Probably, he seems a little antsy...but watch out for reporters..." Willy said, also getting up. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.

"If you want to come along, sure." Weldon said, picking up Winston and making his way over to the door. "Oh, and by the way you have a blade of swudge on your right arm." Willy promptly brushed it off.

At the park the sun was starting to sink behind the clouds and the warmth of spring was starting to take a break, giving way to a chilly night. Winston was in the carriage, fast asleep, and Willy and Weldon would take turns pushing it, the other walking along and trying to think of a topic for conversation. When it was Weldon's turn to think of a conversational topic, he decided to talk about Minusland, somehow having remembered it being mentioned nearly 6 months ago.

"I remember you mentioning Minusland..." Weldon began. "What **is** Minusland, anyway?" Willy's pace slowed slightly at this question. Weldon took over and Willy began to talk.

"Minusland is...um...well...remember how I was telling you about Wonka-Vite?" Willy stammered.

"Yeah..." Weldon said, showing he was listening.

"Well, imagine taking too much of it, as each pill adds 20 years to your life and makes you 20 years younger...if you take too many, you'd become a Minus."

"A...Minus..." Weldon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, a Minus..." Willy said. "Someone who isn't born yet, so they have negative age...if a person goes under the age of zero, they have a negative age, and they have to wait out the surplus in Minusland."

"So why did you bring it up way back then?" Weldon asked.

"I was thinking 'oh, well, we can go and see how Weldon's baby will look when he's 15...' but then I realized that those horrible little creatures..." Willy shuddered. "I'm not going to even say their name...they subtract you and long divide you and make you one of them..."

"...Long division, you say?" Weldon asked, on the verge of laughter. Willy suddenly stopped and looked at him.

"I'm not joking, Weldon. The only reason I changed my mind about it was because I realized that you might never have a son if I did that." Weldon gulped at the thought.

"I think we need to head home now..." Weldon said, turning the carriage around.

On their way, they passed a candy shop that was still bustling with people. Willy read the sign.

"'Bucket's Bakery and Sweet Shop'...oh dear lord...Charlie started his own sweet shop..."

"This probably isn't good..." Weldon said. Willy rushed into the store.

"Charlie..." Willy said, squirming in the extremely uncomfortable chair. "I really hope you're not using my recipes..." Charlie smiled, his hands folded on the desk.

"Of course not. Your recipes aren't really what I do..." he said. Willy sighed with relief.

"That's good, that's good..." his tone changed slightly. "But if you use my recipes, I will find out and I will sue you for every penny it's worth."

"That's quite alright with me, Mr. Wonka..." Charlie said, still the same old kid he always was.

"Oh, and Charlie..."

"Yes, Mr. Wonka?"

"For goodness sake, stop calling me 'Mr. Wonka'...I hope your shop does well, you know, fair competition and all..."

"Well thank you, Mr. Wonka, you too." Charlie said. Willy silently scoffed at Charlie's somewhat ignorant consistency.

"Weldon, might I just say that you are a wonderful father..." Willy said a few days later at breakfast.

"Really? You really think so?" Weldon asked, sighing slightly as Winston flicked more baby food in his face.

"Yeah, it took all of my patience to put up with that..." Willy said.

"I'm getting very impatient here, actually..." Weldon said, ironically calm.

"You don't sound very impatient..." Willy said, taking another bite of his waffle.

"Your asking questions is what's making me impatient..." Weldon snipped.

"Ooh, snippy, aren't we..." Willy said, looking down at his food. Weldon sighed apologetically.

"Winston's just being a total pain...that's all...I'm sorry..." Weldon said.

"I understand...he'll be easier when he gets to be older." Willy said. Weldon sighed.

"I wish I didn't have to wait..." Weldon said. A thought popped into Willy's head.

"Vita-Wonk..." Willy said to himself. Weldon put down the spoon and looked up at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Vita-Wonk, Weldon, Vita-Wonk...if we were to give Winston just a little bit of Vita-Wonk, he'd be older in no time flat!" Willy clapped his hands like a child as he said this. Weldon tapped his lips in thought.

"I rather like that idea...but we'd need to get larger clothes first, right? I remember you saying something about Vita-Wonk being instantaneous..."

"So it's settled? You can get the clothes and I'll search for the Vita-Wonk, it should all take about 10 minutes- no, wait, stay here, I remembered something...I have some of your old clothes...how old do you want Winston to be?"

"...I dunno, 10, I guess..." Weldon thought.

"Oh...goodness, you'll have to have some Vita-Wonk, too...lucky you're almost at your full size..." Willy said.

"Why would I need to take Vita-Wonk?" Weldon asked.

"Well it would seem rather illogical if Winston was only 5 years younger than you, right?"

"...right..." Weldon expressed his understanding.

"So...what age do you wish to be?" Willy asked. Weldon thought about this for a moment.

"25..." he said confidently.

Willy slowly poured the black, sticky liquid into two spoons, handing each of them to Weldon, who tipped the contents of the fuller spoon down his throat, bracing himself for the sudden changes to follow. Not much happened except for Weldon growing a few inches taller. It was a different story for Winston, for as soon as he swallowed the tonic, he really **did** grow like a weed, ending up as a boy rubbing his legs and complaining of growing pains. Weldon cast a look of astonishment at his father, who tipped his hat slightly as if to say "told ya..."

"Winston..." Weldon began, wondering if Winston had gained knowledge along with his age.

"Yeah, dad?" Winston replied.

"Do you have any idea what just happened?" he asked, quizzing him.

"I don't know...but I've got this weird taste in my mouth..." Winston said, sticking out his tongue.

"Vita-Wonk doesn't necessarily have the best taste..." Willy said.

"What's Vita-Wonk, grandpa?" Winston asked. Willy's eyes widened and he let out a pleased gasp at being referred to as 'grandpa', but he quickly regained his composure.

"Vita-Wonk is a medication I created to reverse the effects of Wonka-Vite..." Willy said. _Grandpa...I like the sound of that..._he added to himself.

"Which is..." Winston prompted him to continue.

"Which is a miracle anti-aging pill, it actually makes you shed 20 years a pill!"

"You're kidding..." Winston said.

"Nope." Willy said, grinning.

"You have yet to find out just how many amazing things your grandfather can do, Winston." Weldon said, pulling on his frock coat. Willy smiled at the word 'grandfather' as well. He really liked being called that for some strange reason.

"Well then let's go find out!" Winston said, jumping out of his chair.

"It's...not that simple..." Willy said.

"Oh?" Winston asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Indeed, we must take into consideration the stipulations of transportation, comprehension, and motivation."

"Um, dad, I think he's at a bit of a loss, if you could put it in a sentence with less stilted speech..." Weldon said, calling attention to Winston's confused expression.

"Oh, uh...well, I'm not sure if your stomach can handle the glass elevator, cause it's not like an ordinary elevator, you see...and I'm not sure if you'd quite understand how my candies and machines work...and last, but most certainly not least...are you in the mood for it?" Willy translated.

"Um...yeah..." Winston said.

"Oh, goody, then let's get going, huh?" Willy said, picking up his cane and opening the door.

As they went past the pink candy wool sheep, Willy finally decided to explain.

"Weldon, Winston, I think I will explain why I have these sheep...firstly, it's a side effect of swudge...and...secondly...this is a nice, natural way to make cotton candy...". Winston's face was pressed flat against the glass. Weldon tapped his shoulder.

"You're going to leave smudges on the glass, sonny." he said. Winston stood straight. Willy coughed and tried to change the tone.

"Say, what does pink make you think of?" he asked.

"It makes me think of Lillian and...Helena..." Weldon said, retreating into a flashback. Winston, who didn't notice that his father had gone silent and had started to stare into space, chimed in with his opinion.

"It makes me think of babies." Winston said, matter-of-factly.

"Me too..." Willy said, slipping into a flashback of his own. Winston finally noticed that his paternal figures had gone silent.

"Um..." he gave his father a gentle nudge, then his grandfather.

"Uh? Wha?" Weldon stammered as he bumped into the wall. Willy had a similar reaction.

"What just happened?" Winston asked.

"Flashbacks..." Willy and Weldon said in unison.

"Runs in the family, Winston..." Willy said.

"What were they about?" Winston pried. Weldon's face twitched with nervousness, and Willy squeaked his gloves.

"Um...well...Lillian and Helena were...well, Lillian was my first...and..." Weldon sighed as he said this. "my first and only girlfriend, and we had one daughter together...then she found out about you and she freaked out at me, smashing a little statuette on my head...Helena was the name of the daughter we had...she's about 2 now, I think..."

"But if she's older than me...then...wha?" Winston tried to do the math.

"Nothing is logical here, Winston...but here's the thing, since you took Vita-Wonk, your age instantly increased, therefore making you older than Helena...even though she was born before you..." Weldon explained. Winston processed this new information.

"And what was your flashback about, grandpa?" he asked of Willy. _Oh, say it again, please!_ Willy thought to Winston (who, of course, could not hear the message).

"It was...about...um...well, you don't want to know..." Willy stammered.

"I think I would, seeing as I asked you." Winston said. Weldon gave him a look of warning for this back-sass, and Winston bowed his head in apology.

"When you're older, Winston..." Weldon said. "But let me tell you, I did the same thing..." Winston looked absolutely perplexed at this point.

"Now I'm dying to know!" he said.

"You'd die **if** you knew..." Willy said. Weldon looked at his watch.

"It's almost time for us to go give the nut-sorting room a quick supervision..." he muttered. Nodding, Willy pressed the respective button on the elevator wall, and off they rocketed.

I'M GONNA LET YOU GUYS TAKE A BREAK FROM ALL THIS READING, 'KAY?

'Kay...


	8. Chapter 8

**Little Wonka, Part 8**

As they entered the nut-sorting room, Winston hung over the rail and pointed excitedly.

"Squirrels!" he said. Willy tried to shake off the feeling of deja vu that had somehow gotten a hold of him.

"Yeah...squirrels..." he said. "These squirrels are specially trained to get the nuts out of shells..." Winston "ooh"ed and "ah"ed as the squirrels did their work. Weldon smiled, remembering his excitement when he had first seen the squirrels.

"Please, stay on this side of the railing...the squirrels get a little crazy if someone goes to their work level." Willy added.

"Well everything seems to be checking out..." Weldon said, heading for the door.

"Seconded." Willy said.

"Come on, Winston..." Weldon said, gently tugging on Winston's shirt sleeve.

"Guys, I'm not kidding, what is it that you're hiding from me?" Winston kept asking, causing increasing irritation to Willy and Weldon.

"We're all clones!" Weldon finally said, whipping around to face his son.

"C-C-Clones?" Winston asked. "But I thought...that...you're my dad and he's grandpa...and..."

_Why do I like being referred to as "grandpa" so much?_ Willy asked himself.

"Yes, clones..." Weldon said. "Your grandfather and I each have packets explaining the next generation's existence, or, to put it a little less ambiguously: he has a packet about me and I have a packet about you..."

"I...I don't understand..." Winston said.

"So then let's go to my office!" Willy said, the pace of his walk increasing slightly.

Weldon took the binder from the bookshelf and placed it in front of Winston.

"I knew I'd bee needing all this stuff later..." he said to himself, opening it. "Now, let me just explain something to you, Winston, I am your clone, and I am also your father, and technically speaking, I am your mother as well." Winston gave him a strange look.

"But...you're a man..." he said. Weldon pointed to the binder.

"Read it." he commanded. Winston turned to the explanatory page at the beginning and read it silently for a minute. To pass the time, Willy attacked the growing pile of paperwork on his desk. After a few minutes, Winston shut the binder, a look of shock on his face.

"So...you're saying that...I was..." his face twitched, and Weldon smiled slightly at the resemblances beginning to appear. This pleasure was spoiled by the tone of Winston's statement. "I was...I was...**inside** you!" Weldon sighed.

"Yes!" he said, trying to make Winston understand.

"That's...that's...creepy..." Winston said. Weldon frowned and sighed with a hint of disappointment seeping in. Willy glanced up nervously from the papers he had been filling out.

"I...I-I...well...you can't change your origins, Winston..." Weldon said.

"I would if I could..." Winston said. Weldon let out a loud sigh of exasperation and walked out.

"Nice going..." Willy said. Winston merely glared at him.

Weldon stood on the balcony of a tower, his hat in his hands, as he let the wind whip at his hair and coat._ Why doesn't Winston understand?_ He thought to himself.

"Watch it blow my mind, it's something I am ill-prepared to remedy...but let it slow the time it takes to..." Weldon sang softly to himself, hesitant to finish the stanza. He wasn't sick of life, he was just upset at how it had suddenly changed for the worse.

"It's not the way to cross the fate of...oh, goodness, I can never understand what those Italians are saying..." he muttered to himself.

"Words like violence break the silence...come crashing in, into my little world...painful to me, pierce right through me...can't you understand, oh my little girl?" _little boy, more like..._he added to himself. He sighed in frustration, despair, disappointment... the full package...he was sighing a lot today. Suddenly a clanking noise could be heard behind him. He turned around to see Winston stepping out onto the balcony as well.

"Look, dad, I'm sorry...I read your journals, and when I realized how happy and excited you were...well...I realized that...yeah..." Winston stammered.

"Aw..." Weldon said. "I'm glad you understand, now..." he said as Winston hugged him.

"I'm still going to have kids the traditional way, you realize..." Winston added.

"That's fine...we need a little change in reputation, anyway..." Weldon said. Willy watched this exchange from behind the door, an iota of jealousy creeping through his thoughts.

"How old are you, anyway, dad?" Winston asked.

"Well, thanks to the Vita-Wonk, I'll be turning 26 soon..." Weldon said, heaving a happy sigh as memories came to him. "I remember when I was still pregnant..." he murmured. Winston was starting to actually buy into the idea at this point.

"What about it?" Winston asked, gently separating himself from his father. This hug had lasted long enough. Weldon sighed another happy sigh and folded his hands across his stomach, reminiscing.

"Well...there was the day when I noticed you first started moving..." he said, his eyes glazing over as he spoke. "Oh, it was the most wonderful feeling..." he continued, his voice becoming distant.

"I remember it too..." Willy said, finally coming from behind the door. "It defies description...it's just..." he sighed. "...yeah...". Weldon nodded, closing his eyes. Winston was starting to feel uneasy about these two people talking about something he had never experienced.

"I...I have never known..." Winston said.

"Depends on where your heart is set, whether you ever will, too..." Weldon said, still staring into space.

"And my heart is set with normality." Winston said. The euphoria that Willy and Weldon had been sharing had been torn to shreds, Willy's especially.

"You sound just like my father, Winston..." Willy said, appearing as if he were on the verge of tears. Winston didn't seem to care, as he simply left.

"I've heard folks say 'like father, like son...' maybe it skips every other generation..." Weldon said.

"Probably." Willy said, turning to look at the landscape below him.

"Possibly." Weldon piped, his contribution being totally irrelevant.

"Definitely nothing like me..." Willy said.

"Or anything like me..." Weldon added. "Actually...well...I dunno...he moves his face the way we do..."

"But that's where the similarity ends..." Willy said flatly. There was a long period of awkward silence.

"How are we to shake off this sense of finality?" Weldon asked.

"I...I don't know..." Willy said, turning to go back downstairs. Weldon followed him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Little Wonka, Part 9**

The End

Pre-Story Author's Note: The setting is several years later, now, and Weldon is looking forward to being a grandfather. He also has a less pleasant task awaiting him.

As Weldon walked into his father's room, he choked back despair at the condition he was in. Willy lay, frail and old, on the bed, aged 89, but he smiled as Weldon entered.

"Look at my boy now...45 and already about to become a grandfather..." he said.

"Hi, dad..." Weldon said, smiling weakly.

"Now, Weldon, don't be sad just because I'm dying...we all live on this earth knowing we will die...it's best for us to face it like it's part of everyday life..." Willy said.

"But, dad, this is a major step in your life...the end of it..." Weldon said, tears shining in his brilliant, dark blue eyes.

"There is an end to everything, Weldon...all good things must come to an end..." Willy said, shushing Weldon.

"But...dad...I don't want to see you go..." Weldon whimpered, the tears starting to fall down his face like rain on a window. "You're one of the best things this world has seen..."

"And, I told you, all good things must come to an end...but let me tell you, Weldon...I regret nothing...not one thing." Willy said, his voice starting to weaken.

"I wish I could say the same..." Weldon said.

"When you're on the brink of death, you don't remember any of the things you regret..." Willy said. Weldon continued to let tears drip down his face.

"So I guess this is goodbye?" Weldon asked.

"Yes...goodbye, Weldon..." Willy said. Even he was starting to cry.

"Goodbye, dad..." Weldon said. Willy closed his eyes and fell back on his pillows, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing a death rattle.

Weldon stroked the face of the man that had once treated him as a friend, an equal...Weldon began sobbing uncontrollably, realizing with a terrible ache that his father was gone, and would never be coming back.

"He's...he's never coming back...never...never..." Weldon shook his head, he didn't want to believe this anymore. But he had no choice. One of the Oompa Loompas had come into the room, and seeing that Willy Wonka, the chocolatier extraordinary, the genius of the century, had now passed on, bowed out, his face now marred with the expression one wears when holding back tears. Weldon understood the pain. He clutched a tightness in his chest, debating whether or not to leave. He didn't want to leave his father, or, now, rather, ex-father here alone, but he knew that company was no longer needed. He couldn't shake off the horrible feeling of loss, knowing that his father's beautiful violet eyes would never again open, nor would Weldon ever see that wonderful little spark that always seemed to persist even through Willy's final days; that his charmingly high-pitched voice had been silenced forever. Weldon stood up, his tears becoming ever more numerous, as he repeated the last words he had said to his father.

"Goodbye dad..." he sobbed, turning for the door and walking out, his head spinning from shock. The Oompa Loompas were starting to make their way to the room where their longtime friend's now-empty body lay. It was their turn to mourn. Weldon now had to call the funeral home. He also decided to call Lillian, having since reconciled with her (and administering Vita-Wonk to her and Helena).

As Weldon stood in the back of the room, breathing deeply and forcing himself not to cry, Charlie Bucket had come back (with offers of possible collaborations between himself and Weldon) and spoke of his experiences, and then it was Weldon's turn.

"I loved my dad...I don't think he could say the same about his own father...but...well...I don't know what I'll do for a while...his death has really taken a huge chunk out of me...but I'm always gonna remember his upbeat attitude and absolute genius...he was just so creative...and..." Weldon sighed and looked at the podium in front of him, trying not to cry again. "I...I-I'm at a loss for words at this point..." he said, stepping down. Helena made her contribution by going up and singing "Wake Me Up When September Ends".

Weldon closed his eyes from despair as Winston and Helena stood stiffly by his side. Lillian put her arm around Weldon to try to comfort him. Weldon waited for the light _clunk_ of the coffin hitting the soil below it, and after the sound came, finally opened his eyes. He tossed his flower onto the coffin and nearly fainted as a new wave of tears came from his eyes. The skin on his face stung from the salt, but he ignored it; there was no way he could focus on something so petty as pain in his skin. He stood there, staring down into the ground for a moment, then choked out his third and final "Bye, dad..." before turning and leaving with his family...

Afterthought: I was crying as I wrote this...I'm not sure about your reaction, but if you were crying too, then I know I captured the despair of loss quite well...I'm sorry it had to end like this...I'm also sad to see the series end...and I'm very, **_very_** sad to see Willy Wonka go...even though he's a fictional character, he's become so deeply integrated into my personality that having him die has caused all the feelings that Weldon had to to happen to me as well...


End file.
